Chapter Text
‘Oh my God, are you okay?’
Blurred spots of black and blue and yellow shielded his vision, the words hollow like an echo and not at all familiar. He groaned and blinked harshly. Man, his head . It throbbed and stung. Was that blood? Was his head bleeding? Fuck, he was gonna puke.
He lurched to the side and vomited water and leftover cereal on the asphalt. His heavy breathing rattled. His chest burned, hands clutching his t-shirt feeling hot and cold all over.
A soft hand gripped his shoulder. Luke slapped it away in fear, eyes finally cracking open and the spots disappearing. There, crouched next to him, a frowning girl. She looked harmless enough, but then again, he had no fucking clue how he got here. How did he get in this alleyway? In bright daylight? Why was everything so loud?!
His gaze fell on her other hand which was holding… something. A slim object that illuminated her face.
His throat was made of sandpaper, but he pushed through. ‘What’re you…’ He coughed. ‘Doing?’
She looked up. ‘Calling the ambulance.’ And then she helped him sit up, back leaning against the brick wall of a smelly bar. He smelled like piss and cigarettes and vomit and he was ready to pass out again.
‘Stay awake,’ she ordered.
‘How,’ he lulled, blinking, ‘how can you call-’
‘Hi, I found a boy passed out in an alleyway. Yes, he’s conscious now. I’m on Hillhurst Avenue and Price Street. Thank you.’ She slipped the device in her pants - that looked oddly like the ones he wore in the eighties - and sat down next to him.
‘Do you remember what happened?’, she asked.
His mind was lagging. The sounds she was making didn’t seem like words. ‘What… what was that?’
‘What?’
‘That thing.’
She patted her pants. ‘My phone?’
His eyes widened. ‘That’s- what?’
The girl grimaced. ‘Okay, you hit your head hard.’
But he didn’t. Right? One second he was shredding the guitar and screaming lyrics with the boys at The Pit and the next he was seeing stars and smacked into darkness. And now he was here. Confused and dazed and unsure where he was. Did Alex and Reg dump his body in an alleyway for him to be eaten by the rats? The fuck?
The girl sounded like him though, so he must be in California still - if that was any consolation. (It wasn’t.)
He puffed. He wasn’t able to argue right now. This girl was helping him get help and after his head was patched up, he’d find his way again.
‘Uh,’ she mumbled, ‘who are you?’
He pressed his eyes shut, her voice too clear it hurt his ears. ‘Why d’you care?’
‘I don’t,’ she said, blunt. ‘I’m trying to keep you awake.’
‘Luke,’ he sighed. ‘My name’s Luke.’
‘Good. You still know your name,’ she smiled. ‘Got scared with the phone thing for a sec.’
That shit was not her phone and no one could convince him otherwise. Cell phones didn’t light up like that. But man, did he wish he had one right now to call Alex. Maybe there was a telephone booth somewhere?
‘You don’t remember how you got here?’, she continued.
‘I wouldn’t fucking be here at all .’ He finally met her gaze, the girl gnawing on her lip in furiously trying to understand him. Was he blubbering? He could be. ‘Where even are we?’
She looked equally lost as him. ‘You don’t- you don’t know where you are? Like, location? We’re in LA.’
'Oh.’ Luke craned his neck to the opening of the alleyway, people and cars rushing by and billboards glimmering like ornaments on buildings. An advertisement for a tv show he didn’t recognise. Then, he stilled.
PREMIERE MARCH 20TH 2020
Luke vomited again and passed out.
He woke up in a different place. Beige walls, sterile smell, meticulous repetition of sounds and buzzes. The hum of people’s whispers and steps closeby. He lifted his hand and saw as his bloodied knuckles and raw fingernails were cleaned up.
‘You’re awake!’
His head snapped to the left, the girl from before still present and perking up in the rickety chair. She pushed the red button next to his bed.
Luke cringed. ‘I passed out again?’
‘Yeah. You have a horrible fake, by the way.’
‘Wha-?’
But then two nurses rushed in and began checking up on him. He let them, dumbfounded, still reeling by what she said. A fake? What the hell was going on?
‘Sir, do you have your actual ID on you?’, one asked.
‘What?’
They frowned. ‘You had a fake ID on you. We’re not going to fine you for that, but we need real information.’
‘But,’ he sputtered, ‘I don’t have a fake.’ Well, he did , but he didn’t have it on him. His fake was at the studio.
‘Sir, we don’t believe you’re from 1978.’
‘But I am!’
‘Does he have amnesia?’, the girl quipped, worried.
The other shook his head. ‘There is no brain damage. What is your relation to him again?’
‘Oh, no! I- I was the one that found him. I don’t know him.’
‘Hold on,’ Luke cut in, ‘Why do you not believe I’m from ‘78? I’m seventeen.’
All three blinked. ‘Yes,’ the first nurse said, cautious. ‘You say you’re seventeen? You’re from 2003? 2002?’
The first thing he thought was: damn, so the world didn’t blow up at the turn of the century? and the second was: holy fucking shit he did not imagine that billboard.
Luke swallowed, hands trembling as tears building in the corners of his eyes. What the fuck was going on? Was he going insane? He must be. He couldn’t be… he couldn’t be in the future. This was some freaky nightmare or something. Some freaky, highly realistic nightmare. He shouldn’t have re-watched “Back to the Future Part II”.
‘So…’, he shivered. ‘I’m- this is-’
‘Can we call your parents? Do you know their number out of your head?’
He frowned. How else would be call them? He wasn’t one of those dweebs that kept a paper in their bag. But fuck no. They couldn't call them! They’d lose their shit! The revulsion on their faces hearing of him after weeks of radio silence wasn’t something he was eager to see.
‘No,’ he shook his head, frantic. ‘No, no, no. You can’t call them. We don’t- I- I’m emancipated.’ When they looked unconvinced, he pulled himself up. ‘Look, I’m Luke Patterson. I’m- I’m in a band? Sunset Curve? We were playing a gig last night and I have no clue what the fuck is going on.’ He paused. ‘Oh man, does school think I’m skipping?’
The nurses looked completely baffled, yet the girl looked strangely calm. Cryptic almost.
She took a step forward. ‘Sunset Curve?’
‘Yeah.’ The urge to paste tell your friends after was big. ‘You know of us?’
‘Uh, yeah.’ She grimaced, looking like she was constipated. Fuck, was she gonna puke too? ‘You kinda look like the guitarist.’
‘I am the guitarist!’, he yelled, exasperated.
‘Sir, it’s time to stop playing games,’ Nurse 1 exclaimed, crossing his arms.
‘I’m not! I’m Luke, lead guitar from Sunset Curve and I’m supposed to-’
He was supposed to play The Orpheum next week. He was supposed to become the next great American rock band. Oh, no! He couldn't miss it!
‘Sunset Curve disbanded in 1995,’ she whispered.
His head whipped towards her in disbelief, emotion choking his throat. ‘What?’
The jolt of furious despair made her stumble back. Her eyes widened in a way that felt like someone finally believed him. Did she? Or did she think he lost his mind? Maybe he did.
‘Sir-’
‘Ma’am,’ she cut in. ‘let me pay for the cost.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, I-’ She glanced from him to the nurse. ‘I don’t mind. A good Samaritan deed or something.’
The nurses shrugged and Nurse 2 said: ‘Okay. Follow me, miss.’
Nurse 1 sat on the edge of his bed, Luke wanted to kick him off. Judgemental pricks. Why couldn’t they consider his words for just one second? Then again, how would he explain it? He knew he wasn’t crazy. The only logical explanation was one of Reggie’s crazy conspiracy theories about alternate universes (he was obsessed with the Spider-Man comics) but that would get him straight into the asylum.
‘Is someone after you?’, he asked, concern lacing his tone. So now he wanted to be compassionate? As if. Luke didn’t trust authority.
‘What? No.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Just forget about it.’
He pursed his lips. ‘I’d suggest going to the police to find your ID and take a few days off. You have a place to go?’
‘Yeah. I can got to a friend’s home. Uh, Alex Reed.’
‘Alex Reed?’ He sputtered a laugh. ‘The singer?’
‘What?’
‘Ready to go?’, the girl bounced back, Nurse 2 one step behind her. ‘I’ll drive you to, uh-’
‘Hoover Street.’
She snapped her fingers. ‘Hoover Street.’
He was unsteady on his feet as a gust of air hit his face. It was later in the day, chillier and the blue muted. He shivered in his muscle tee. Without struggle, he followed her into the parking lot and stepped inside a grey Honda. The thump of the door slamming shut and pure silence encasing him made him sigh in relief. He couldn’t freak out right now. This girl would bring him to Alex and from there, he’d figure it out. Alex always knew what to do.
She fell into the driver’s seat, clicking her seat belt. ‘Seat belt.’
‘What?’
‘Put your seat belt on.’ She tapped his clasp. ‘Are you really going to risk your life pretending it’s 1995?’
‘I’m not…’, he grumbled, but followed her order anyway. The sooner he was out of her hair, the better. ‘Who are you anyway?’
Turning on the engine, she rolled out of the lot. The dashboard sprung on, showcasing an illuminated screen similar to her so-called “phone”. He was in awe. ‘I’m Julie. Are you also from Los Feliz? I haven’t seen you at house parties.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t believe me, so…’
She paused. ‘Why… why are so convinced you’re from ‘78? Like, it’s really weird how alike you look with the guy from Sunset Curve but there’s no way… there’s no way you’re him, right? That would be crazy.’ She was rambling, hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel as she was processing her own thoughts. He simply looked at her. He was done trying to explain. He just had to hit his head against a pole or something, and hard enough that he warped himself back into 1995 and then play at The Orpheum. This was probably the longest time he went without his guitar. It ached his fingers.
But something scratched the back of his head. ‘How do you know of Sunset Curve?’ Of all the people that found him, it was a teenage girl from this supposed future that wouldn’t have been alive back then. What were the odds? He stilled. Was she… a crazed psycho? Did he get in the alley because of her ?
‘My mom was a fan,’ she muttered. ‘She was a “Bobby girl” or something.’
Luke made a face. ‘Ugh, why? We kicked him out.’
‘I don’t know. She’s dead.’
Oh . Oh, fuck. At the casual mention of death , his own problems suddenly became miniscule. What Julie must’ve thought finding a lifeless body in a smelly street… yikes. But wait. If her mom was a fan back when Bobby was still part of the band, it meant she was one of their original followers. AKA, he might’ve known her. Taking another glance at the girl, the olive skin and big, bouncy curls did look familiar. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it though. Everything became weirder by the second. Julie, one of the millions of Californians, found him and coincidentally had a mom that used to be an OG fan. What did that mean? Was this some fated, cosmic, karmic type shit? Were the music legends taunting him?
He wrung his hands, remorse thick. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ To relieve some tension, her fingers reached for the illuminated dashboard and tapped on it, crisp music coming from the speakers. Bewildered, he stared at the device but decided against questioning it. The screen was touchable and your hand was basically the remote. Got it. ‘Who lives on Hoover Street? Friend? Significant other?’
‘Friend. Alex will help me get my, uh, bearings.’
‘Wait. Alexander? On Hoover Street? Oh!’ She cleared up, smiling. ‘You’re his friend from public school!’
His heart stopped. ‘What.’
‘Oh man, I knew you looked familiar! Not because of the band, but because your his friend! He talks about you all the time.’
‘ What .’
He couldn’t think or breathe or smell or feel or breathe . Luke wanted to puke again. This was not good. Oh, fuck. This was bad. This was really, really bad. If Julie was correct, Alex wouldn’t be able to help him. He was part of the nightmare.
Alarmed, Julie slowed down. ‘Do I need to pull over?!’
‘No!’ He gripped the handle above his head. Act cool, act cool, act cool. ‘No, uh. How- how do you know Alex?’
She eyed him, confused. ‘We go to school together. You’ve probably seen me on his Instagram or something.’ And then she became even more confident with her words. ‘I know you guys have been thinking about making a band with Reginald. He’s, like, the best bassist of the school. Maybe you thought of Sunset Curve because… I don’t know, maybe you listened to them last night.’
‘And how do you explain me ending up in the alley?’ Luke crossed his arms, voice harsh.
She bit her lip. ‘Unfortunate circumstance?’
He sighed. ‘Right. Sure.’
They got to Hoover Street in silence, only a weird mainstream pop song keeping the anxiety at bay. His house came into view, a simple one-storey home similar to Luke’s parents. It looked exactly the same as in real life. It didn’t have a satellite dish though; that was weird. This nightmare was getting crazy. He swallowed hard.
Julie parked at the side of the street and killed the engine. She turned in her seat. ‘Ready?’
‘Wait.’ He turned the music off, heartbeat spiking with nerves it was bound to drown him. ‘I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on. But if what you’re saying is true… then Alex won’t remember me. I mean: this Alex won’t remember me. I have my own Alex and Reggie in 1995. This is not-’ He clutched the upholstery, unable to breath. He heard her unbuckle her seat belt. ‘This is not real.’
‘Wow, hey, Luke, it’s gonna be okay,’ Julie soothed, unclenching his fingers from the seat and holding them tightly within her own. How she was so ready to trust a stranger like him, how he was so ready to trust a stranger like her, he didn’t know. She mustered a smile. ‘I know what you went through is traumatic; not knowing how you ended up on the street. But this is real. And we’ll help you feel better. All you need is a nap and then tomorrow, we’ll look for your stuff.’ She paused. ‘It’s probably in your locker or something. Sounds good?’
He nodded, quiet. Her deep brown eyes shone with compassion and he wanted to cry. Julie didn’t have to do any of this and if the roles were switched, he would’ve left her by the time the ambulance came. He would’ve been on his merry way to his bandmates again. But Julie cared. Probably because she was friends with Alexander (what the hell was that?) - but still. He’d let her help. For now.
Julie let go of his hands and grabbed her purse from the backseat. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’